Tales from the Junkyard
by Feliciradeya
Summary: The kittens get up to mischief; a new kitten meets a tribe member; Macavity and Plato have a heart-to-heart; Alonzo finds a coat and meets some humans.
1. Kittens!

Kittens!

Early one morning a small brown, orange and black kitten with brown patches over his eyes came trotting into the junkyard. 

"It must be very early," he thought as there were not very many cats there, and those who were present were still fast asleep. 

"Never mind, who shall I pounce on first?" Pouncival, whose love of jumping on other cats had earned him his name, could see Alonzo curled up with Cassandra, this week's girlfriend. He knew they wouldn't be pleased if he woke them up.

"They think they're so dignified, this'll shake them up a bit," thought the kitten as he crouched down, got ready to pounce and... 

"Aarrgghh!" Alonzo screamed as the kitten landed on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. 

"Pouncival!" Cassandra yelled, lashing out at him as he ran off to find his friends. 

"That kitten," Alonzo spluttered, catching his breath. 

"He'd better be careful," said Cassandra, rubbing her head against Alonzo's. 

Pouncival had found Tumblebrutus, one of the oldest kittens in the tribe who looked very much like Alonzo, as well as Etcetera, a white queen with brown and black stripes. He told them what had happened. 

"You'd better leave them alone for a while," Tumblebrutus advised, "come on, let's find the others." 

A quick search of the junkyard revealed Etcetera's best friend, a tortoiseshell called Electra and her younger sister, Jemima, a calico. 

Just as they were about to continue the kitten hunt, a loud giggle was heard, followed by an equally loud "Shh!". Then Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer appeared. The multi-coloured tabby partners-in-crime caught sight of their friends and hurried over to them. 

"What 'ave you bin doin'?" asked Mungojerrie. 

Pouncival said with a giggle, "Just waking up some of the adults." 

"'alf of 'em are still asleep," said Rumpelteazer, "looks loike ya need some 'elp." 

"Okey dokey, 'oo should we ge' up fust?" asked Mungo. 

"Munkustrap," said Etcetera. 

"Good idea," said Electra. 

They approached the tire where the silver tabby and his black, white and gold mate, Demeter, were sleeping. They were in for a shock when four of the kittens pounced on them at once. 

Munkustrap woke up with an "Oof!" to find the bigger two, Tumble and Mungo, standing on him. His front paws were free so he managed to swat them both before they ran away. Demeter wasn't so lucky as Rumpelteazer had landed on her shoulder and Pouncival was sitting on her hindquarters. Instead she screamed, "You lot are in big trouble!" planning to tell the kittens' assorted parents and guardians. 

Triumphant, the kittens continued to wreak havoc by jumping on any cat who was unlucky enough to still be asleep, including Coricopat and Tantomile who hissed in unison at the troublemakers.

When the madness was over the kittens retreated to the shadows to wash themselves. 

They were soon joined by a teenage, white-and-black kitten called Victor, who had just arrived. He brought bad news. 

"You lot are in trouble. Munkustrap and Demeter just told Skimble, Jenny, Bombalurina, Asparagus and Jellylorum what you've been up to." 

"Thank you, Victor," Munkustrap's voice startled him and he ran off, leaving the kittens to listen to their elders drone on about having respect for other cats. 

The younger ones hardly took any of it in. Mungo and Rumpel were always being told off and the others were too young to care. It struck a chord with Tumblebrutus, however. He was already a year old and knew he shouldn't be playing about with the other kittens so much. The trouble was that they were his friends and the other cats who were more his age, Victor, Admetus, Mistoffelees, George, Plato and Victoria were, as Victor has just this minute proven, pretty boring. He didn't want to grow up just yet. 

Finally the adults finished their tirade and the kittens set off to make more mischief, Tumble having decided to have fun while he still could. 

Munkustrap sighed, "Do you think they listened to any of that?" 

"Probably not, but don't worry. They'll be all right in the end," Asparagus reassured him. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Of course, dear, "said Jennyanydots, "just look at you and Alonzo." 

"What about me and Alonzo?" 

"I remember when you two were as bad as that lot." 

"You do? We were?" Munkustrap would rather they didn't keeping bring the subject up. 

"Yes, we do and yes, you were," said Asparagus with a chuckle, "I can't remember how many times Deuteronomy and I yelled at you two about Heaviside knows what, only to find you doing it again the next day." 

Jellylorum nodded, "Gus is right, dear. You two were almost as naughty as Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, but you sorted yourselves out in the end." 

"Aye," said Skimble, "with a little help from the rest of us." 

"I suppose you're right," said Munkustrap quietly, not liking to be reminded of his days as a reckless kitten when he was doing his utmost to be a responsible leader. 

The older cats left to see what the kittens were up to and Demeter spoke. 

"I never thought of it like that before." 

"Like what?" 

"That they'll come around by themselves. I wonder how much of what we say really matters." 

"I don't know, but maybe one day we'll try it all ourselves," Munkustrap said, rubbing his head against hers affectionately. 

"Maybe," Demeter replied calmly, smiling to herself as he watched her walk away. 


	2. Feliciradeya's Story

Feliciradeya's Story

A small tortoiseshell kitten walked slowly down the street, tired from lack of food and a night spent guarding her makeshift accommodation against intruders. 

She stopped at the opening of an alleyway and listened. Hearing nothing she deemed it safe to enter and did so, with caution. She jumped up onto the rim of a dustbin, peered in and sniffed. Her sensitive nose caught the scent of something inviting and she leaned in further, trying to reach a polystyrene box that was home to a hamburger. Several times she swiped at it, but to no avail. She couldn't reach it. 

She decided to lean a little closer and have another go. She wasn't worried about overbalancing, that was what she had a tail for, after all. 

This time, however, her tail let her down and she fell head first into the rubbish, letting out a small squeak as she landed. 

Now most people, indeed most cats for that matter, would be very upset to find themselves in a situation like this, going from the metaphorical dumping ground of life into a literal rubbish bin. This kitten, however, had one quality that was of great help to her in moments like these, and that quality was optimism. Her mother had told her to try to make the best of a bad situation and so that is what she did. She may have landed in a dustbin in a very ungraceful position, but hey, now she could reach the hamburger! 

As it turned out it was a cheeseburger, or part of one, and that was even better, for she knew of the importance of calcium, especially for growing kittens. 

Once she had polished off the food and given herself a proper wash, which is hard to do when you're sitting in a dustbin, she set about getting out. She found, to her relief, that this was almost as easy as falling in and so she leapt triumphantly from the bin. And landed directly in the path of a passing cat. A large, male, silver and black tabby cat, to be precise. 

"Argh!" he screamed, startling her in turn. She turned to run, she had been told never to trust strange cats, but he moved quickly and put a paw out to stop her. She sat down in front of him and studied his face. He reminded her of someone. 

She asked in a shaky voice, "What do you want?" 

"Nothing," he replied, now fully recovered from the shock of an ordinary dustbin emitting a flying kitten, "except to know why such a small kitten is out roaming the streets by herself, and jumping out of dustbins at innocent passers-by." 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I just finished lunch." 

"Lunch? In a dustbin?" 

"Yes, it was the first decent food I'd found since the day before yesterday." 

"Oh, dear. You're a stray, I take it?" 

"Yes. I was born in an alleyway not far from here. I was fine until last week. That's when my mother disappeared." 

"Disappeared?" the cat asked in disbelief. 

"Yes," said the kitten, "she never came back on the night of the full moon." 

"Hmm. What does she look like?" 

"She looks old. She's grey, a bit like you." 

"Like me?" 

"Yeah. She's got green eyes too." 

"Lots of grey cats do." 

"Oh. She's black too, black and grey." 

"Okay. What's her name?" 

"Grizabella." 

"What?! I mean, pardon?" 

"Grizabella." 

The tabby sat down on the pavement with a thump, his pink nose pale from shock. 

"Are you okay? You look scared." 

He remained silent, not knowing what to say. 

When he recovered he said, "I have some bad news for you, I'm afraid." 

"What do you mean? Do know where she is?" 

"Yes, kitten, I do." 

"Well, where is she?" 

The tabby looked the kitten in the eye, "Your mother was from the tribe I belong to, but she was an outcast. She came to our annual ball last week. She was accepted back into the tribe and she went to the Heaviside Layer." 

"What's that? When's she coming back?" 

The tabby sighed. It was clear he would have to explain everything. 

"The Heaviside Layer is a kind of cat heaven. It is a great honour to be chosen. Only one cat can go each year and then they are re-born." 

"You mean she's dead? She's not coming back?" 

"Yes, that's right. I'm sorry." 

"But she can't..." The kitten lay down and covered her face with her paws, mewing quietly. The cat licked her head and she looked up at him. 

He swallowed and said, "There's something else I need to tell you. It's important." 

The kitten looked at him questioningly and sat up. 

He continued, "Grizabella was my mother too. She left my brother and I when we were six weeks old and went to explore the world beyond the city. That's why she was outcast. Anyway, I'm your brother." 

Then it was the kitten's turn to stare into space. The tabby decided to take the lead and asked, "What's your name?" 

The kitten shook her head, "Mummy told me not to talk to strangers. I can't tell you." 

"It's a bit late for that now, kitten, besides I'm hardly a stranger, am I? We're related." 

"I suppose, but..." 

The cat had an idea. It was an old idea, but it always worked. 

"How about I introduce myself first? Then we wouldn't be strangers anymore." 

The kitten thought about it for a moment and realised she had nothing to lose, after all, if he wanted to hurt her he probably would have done so by now. 

"Yes, that'd be okay." 

"Good. Well in that case, I'm Munkustrap and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance..?" 

"Feliciradeya." 

"Oh my, that's a bit of a mouthful." 

"So's yours. How do you say it? Monkey..?" 

"Munkustrap," he said, a touch too loudly, before glancing around nervously and pausing to lick a paw. That was his father's private nickname for him and he'd be mortified if it became public. 

"Okay," she said, not wanting to attempt it again in case she got it wrong, "You can call me Feli, it's easier." 

"All right, then, I will. Now then, I've got a proposition for you." 

"A propo- what?" 

"Don't say what, say pardon," said Munkustrap. 

"Sorry," said Feli, remembering how her mother used to say the same thing. You didn't get to be a Glamour Cat if you didn't speak properly. "Pardon?" 

"That's better. I said "proposition". It means I'm going to make you an offer. I propose that you come home with me. I spend most of my time at the Junkyard with the tribe, or visiting Old Deuteronomy at the vicarage, and my humans are always complaining that they never see me, so I'm sure they'll welcome you. And I doubt Demeter would mind looking after you when I'm not there." 

Feli thought this was all very sudden, but she knew an opportunity when she saw one and decided to grasp it firmly with all four paws. Before she agreed to go with Munkustrap, though, she had some questions she wanted answered. 

"But who's Old Deuteronomy and Demeter? What's the Junkyard?" 

Munkustrap took a deep breath and began to explain, "Old Deuteronomy is my father and the leader of the tribe. The Junkyard is where we all meet and where the ball takes place each year. And Demeter is my mate," he finished with a dreamy smile. 

The kitten considered the offer, or proposition as he, her brother, Monkey-something-or-other, called it. It sounded much more inviting than spending the nights shivering in alleyways. 

"When do I move in, then?" 

Munkustrap laughed. "That's the spirit! Come on, we've got lots to do." He began walking down the road and Feli struggled to keep up with him. 

"We have?" 

"Of course we have. It's not every day I meet my long-lost baby sister -" 

"Hey, who you calling a baby?" 

"Sorry, I forgot to ask your age. How old are you?" 

"Nearly four months." 

"Right. Sorry," he said, thinking "give it another eight and you'll have a point." 

"Anyway, as I was saying, first we'll go home and I'll introduce you to my humans, then tomorrow we can go and see Old Deuteronomy, then there's Demeter and the rest of my, no, _our_, family." 

"You mean there's more cats like you?" 

Munkustrap laughed again. 

"Yes, Feli, many more. But they're not all like me." 


	3. Macavity and Plato: A Midnight Chat

Macavity and Plato - A Midnight Chat

The woman opened the door to the back bedroom and watched as her white, black and ginger cat stepped over the threshold and sat down. 

She was surprised to see the wild looking ginger, black and white lightning-striped cat she'd just adopted walk straight up to the other and start washing his face. It was as if they had known each other for years.

~

To be honest, Plato had been shocked to see that his father, Macavity, had been adopted at all, let alone by his own human. 

Macavity was highly embarrassed by the whole affair. Not only had he been careless enough to be captured, or "rescued" as the humans called it, but they didn't even know who he was. On second thought that was probably a good thing. And he certainly didn't like being called, 

"Ginger, Jonathan, come on boys, dinner!" 

Plato bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen while Macavity followed at a slower pace, deep in thought. He was glad he no longer had to steal to survive, but it was against his principles to accept anything from humans. Since being mistreated by the human family who had adopted him as a kitten, and then running away from them at the grand old age of six months, he had made a point of disrupting the human world as much as possible, earning himself quite a reputation along the way. 

Since his arrival Macavity had been shut in the back bedroom, an idea the woman had read of in a book about cat care, but now he was free to come and go as he pleased. The downstairs looked good so far and he could see many valuable ornaments, but he decided that this house and its contents should be left intact. He didn't want to jeopardise his situation and anyway, the whole idea was to keep away from the scene of the crime and have the dirty work done for him. 

He sat down in the middle of the living room and took a look around. He saw a log fire blazing under the mantelpiece and, realising that this would make a good base for his operations as well as being quite comfortable, he decided he might as well relax and see what happened. Happy with this decision, he joined Plato for dinner and then curled up with him in the cat-bed, something he hadn't done with any cat since Plato had been taken to an animal rescue shelter at the age of eight weeks and adopted by the woman. Macavity was on the verge of falling asleep when he noticed Plato laughing. 

"What's so funny?" he demanded. 

"I was just thinking, I never thought I'd see the day Macavity became a house cat." 

Macavity growled and smacked Plato across the face with a paw. "Don't be so cheeky. You should have some respect for your father." 

Plato licked an invisible spot on his chest and said, "Sorry, but you have to admit, it's a bit weird for a cat who hates humans as much as you do." 

"I know," he said, then remembered what he had decided about the woman and her home. He lay down on his stomach, resting his head on his front paws. 

"I do hate humans," he went on, "in general, that is. This one's all right." He jerked his head up and looked at Plato, "And if you dare tell Munkustrap or any of the other soppy cats in that tribe about this I'll disown you, understand?" 

"Yes, Dad," said Plato, feeling like a kitten again, "but you're a member of the tribe too, aren't you? What happened?" 

"You don't know? No, I suppose you wouldn't." 

"Then why don't you tell me? Why did you stop coming to the junkyard?" 

Macavity turned away. It was something he thought about every day, but never spoke of. Now that Plato was grown up, however, he had a right to know. He took a deep breath. 

"I left because I was sick of them and their rules. They don't appreciate me and they never did. When Old Deuteronomy announced that Munkustrap would lead the tribe after he was gone I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to get out. He was always so good and I was just the rebel. They never thought about giving me a chance." 

He gasped inaudibly as he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He hoped Plato would understand. The last thing he needed was to be rejected by his own son. 

"But you had some friends, didn't you?" 

Macavity let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding and said, "Yes, I did. Bombalurina was my best friend since we were kittens. We even went out for a while, but it was Demeter I really loved." Resting his head on his paws again he shut his eyes. 

"What happened to her? Why's she so scared of you?" 

Macavity sighed. "It's a long story." 

Plato shifted his position and made himself more comfortable. "I've got time." 

"All right then, wait a moment." Macavity thought back to what had happened. There were so many emotions tangled up with his memories and he didn't want to lose control of them. He took a minute to collect himself, then continued, 

"As I said, I never really got on with the rest of the tribe so I didn't go to the junkyard much, but at my first ball I danced with Demeter, like you did with Victoria, and we were going fine for a while, but..." Macavity trailed off. 

"But what? What happened?" 

"Your mother. Griddlebone happened." 

"What did she do?" 

Macavity sighed. "She came back from another trip up the Thames and said she was tired of working for me and having me take all the credit. She wanted more. She'd been on a boat full of drunken pirates and said she'd spent the whole time thinking about me. Of course I told her I was with Demeter, but that didn't stop her. She's just like her grandmother and Heaviside knows a whole army of Siamese with toasting forks and carving knives couldn't stop her, so she persisted. I tried to fight her off, but Demeter got worried. She thought I was with Griddlebone whenever I was away from her and in the end she said she didn't want to see me any more." 

"She broke up with you?!" 

"Yes," Macavity snapped, "Is that so hard to believe?" 

"No, no," said Plato quickly, looking down at his paws. 

Macavity sighed again and went on, "But I wouldn't let her go. I followed her around for days, even went to the junkyard so she couldn't get away from me. I was just trying to get her to listen to me, but she wouldn't even do that. And then I got angry. I must've really frightened her because," he closed his eyes and let out a pitiful mew, "she still won't come anywhere near me." Plato licked Macavity's head and asked in a whisper, "and then what happened?" 

The red cat opened his eyes. "I went back to my lair in the alley by the junkyard and there was Griddlebone, waiting for me." 

"She was waiting for you?" 

Macavity growled, "Yes, she was, will you stop interrupting and repeating everything I say? Are you a cat or a parrot?" 

"Sorry." 

"As I was saying, she was waiting for me and I was so upset at what had happened with Demeter, and she was so sympathetic, I just couldn't help myself. And that's how you came along." 

"Is that it?" 

"What do you mean, is that it?!" Macavity stared at his son in disbelief. "Isn't that enough? How much more heartbreak d'you want?" 

He sighed yet again and said, "Anyway, that isn't it, so let me finish. You said I'm still a member of the tribe, didn't you? Well maybe I am, but when I went to the ball last year they told me I wasn't welcome anymore." 

"Why not?" 

"Don't they tell you anything?" 

"No, I was just a kitten before the ball this year." 

"Oh, yes. I think it had to do with Demeter being so afraid of me. They thought I'd gone too far, I suppose, that I'd be dangerous around the kittens." 

"So that's why I was left on my own. I can't remember my first ball very well." 

"Exactly. I thought that was more dangerous, anything could have happened to you, but I've never agreed with Old Deuteronomy. Last year it was all so sudden I didn't have time to think of a way of getting my own back, but Heaviside knows I made my presence known this year." 

"You mean you planned all those crashes and evil laughter?!" 

"Yes," Macavity chuckled in spite of himself, "and I told Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer to do their song after the first crash. What did you think?" 

"Yeah, wonderful, but why'd you try to kidnap Demeter? Why'd you take Old Deuteronomy?" 

Macavity stared at the floor, unsure how to explain his actions. "I suppose I needed to talk to them. That wasn't the best way to get their attention, but I couldn't see any other way of doing it." 

"And it didn't work. You just scared them off even more." 

"All right," Macavity snapped, "there's no need to go on about it." 

"And now Demeter's with Munkustrap and Bombalurina's with Tugger, well, most of the time anyway." 

"Enough! I know about all that. You're not making it any easier." 

"Sorry." 

"It's bad enough Bombalurina's belittled herself by flirting with that Rum Tum "look at me everybody" Tugger, but now Demeter, _my Demeter_, has gone off with _Munkustrap_ of all cats. That goody-goody brother-of-mine gets everything. And he's so damn smug, I can't stand him!" 

Plato didn't know what to say. He felt torn between showing sympathy to his father, and loyalty to the future leader of the tribe. 

Meanwhile, Macavity continued to work himself up, "And then there's Alonzo, coming along and "rescuing" Demeter. And I can't believe Mungojerrie hissed at me. And where were you while all that was going on?!" 

"Calm down! You've made your point; you feel betrayed by the tribe. I'm sorry, but I don't know what I can do about it." 

Macavity took a deep breath to calm himself. In a quiet voice he said, "I have an idea." 

"You've got an idea?" 

"Yes, you parrot, I do. You can help me." 

Plato cocked his head to one side, "How?" 

"If you could just talk to them for me. Tell them my side of the story. They'll listen to you." 

"D'you think so?" 

"I wouldn't say so if I didn't. Of course they will, what have you ever done to upset anyone? Considering who your parents are you turned out very well, except for when you and Tumblebrutus had Pouncival scratch Grizabella. That was mean." 

Plato looked down at his paws. "I'm sorry." 

Macavity sighed yet again. "It's all right, she was accepted in the end." 

"And thanks, I guess." 

"Don't thank me, thank those soppy cats. Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks practically brought you up." 

Plato's head snapped up. "No they didn't. If you hadn't been there I wouldn't have had a bad influence to rebel against." 

Macavity smiled. 

"What?" 

"I just realised how fitting your name is. That was very profound." 

Plato felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. He looked down at his paws again, kneading the blanket for want of anything else to do. 

"Yeah, Victoria says I think too much." 

"Maybe. There's nothing wrong with thinking, but sometimes you get more done if you just do something." 

"And sometimes acting without thinking things through properly gets you into even more trouble." Now it was Macavity's turn to blush. 

"You got me," he admitted. "How is Victoria, by the way? I saw you dancing with her at the ball." 

"You did?" 

"Of course I did, I saw everything. I almost cried." 

"Really?" 

"Yes, but I'm not that soft. I saw Grizabella as well. I know how she felt." 

"All right, I'll talk to them for you, but you've got to help yourself as well. You'll have to try to patch things up with them or it won't work." 

"Yes, Dad." 

Plato frowned, then noticed the mischievous glint in Macavity's eyes and smiled. 

Suddenly the clock struck twelve. 

"I've got to go," said Plato, standing up. 

"Where?" 

"I promised Victoria I'd meet her in the junkyard. I said I'd leave home at midnight." 

"You'd better go then." 

"Yeah." Plato stretched, then turned to Macavity, nuzzling him. 

"Have a good time," said Macavity, "and thanks for listening." 

"That's okay. I'll see what I can do. I'll talk to Victoria and see what she thinks. She and Jemima were the ones who accepted Grizabella in the first place. See you later." 

"Go on then, Romeo," Macavity called to Plato as he walked across the kitchen, "and don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

"That'd be almost nothing," Plato thought as he hopped through the cat-flap. 

Macavity stretched, yawned and curled up into a ball. It was a heat-preserving way of sleeping he'd learned when living rough and it reminded him of his carefree days as a young kitten, before all this trouble started and he and Munkustrap were the best of friends. 

"It's funny," he thought, "Victoria looks so much like Griddlebone. Maybe we should've called him Freud."


	4. Concerning Feli and Macavity

After walking for what seemed to be an eternity, Feliciradeya almost bumped into Munkustrap as he finally stopped in front of a house. It wasn't a very large house, but it was more than the kitten had been used to. She may have been the daughter of a Glamour Cat, but that was often overrated.

Munkustrap led the way through the gate and up the path to the front steps. This short journey interested Feli more than anything she'd seen in the city. She'd seen the odd flower here and there, but nothing like this. On either side of the path was a neatly trimmed patch of lawn surrounded on all sides by flowerbeds. She stopped and sniffed at a few of the flowers, the pollen making her sneeze.

"You like the flowers?" Munkustrap asked, waiting for her to catch up with him, "there're more of those behind the house."

"There's more?"

"Yes, they've got a huge garden. In the spring they get lots of daffodils and in the summer there are reeds that are great to chase."

"Really?" Feli couldn't imagine this serious, sensible cat chasing after reeds.

"Yes, now come on." Munkustrap walked up the steps and through the cat flap that his humans had thoughtfully placed in the front door, and Feli followed.

"Sebastian's brought a friend home with him," said a human voice.

"Sebastian?" Feli wondered aloud, "Is that your family name?

"Yes."

The man continued, "I suppose that's two for dinner then?"

"Yes," said Munkustrap, "but she'll be staying longer if you don't mind."

"That's no trouble," said the man, answering his own question since Munkustrap's had only been understood as a series of meows.

Munkustrap turned to Feli, "They'll give you another name soon too."

"Really?" The kitten began to think about what she might be called, but then the man went into the kitchen and filled two bowls with chicken-in-jelly, thereby distracting her attention.

"Not very inspiring," said Munkustrap to Feli, "but it's better than foraging in dustbins."

The kitten agreed, but did so silently as her mouth was too full of food for her to reply. 

Once they'd finished dinner, Munkustrap lay down in the cat bed, cleverly positioned where the heating pipes ran under the floor and Feli followed suit, curling up against his warm tummy.

Munkustrap slept soundly, but Feli was disturbed by a puzzling dream. In it she had seen her mother, or at least she thought it was her mother. She was surrounded by a haze of rainbow coloured smoke and she was saying something. Feli didn't remember all of it, but she got the gist. Grizabella was saying goodbye. The kitten began to understand what her brother had been saying about that cat heaven, the Heaviside Layer. Feli hoped that she would see her mother again, when she came back for her new life, but such thoughts were too much for her in her tired state and she quickly fell asleep once more.

Early in the morning she was woken up as Munkustrap, who had been awake for a while, shifted his position slightly.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I tried not to wake you."

Feli yawned and said, "It's okay. I think I've slept enough for one night. I'm hungry."

"Hmm. It's a bit early, but I suppose just the once won't hurt."

"What do you mean?"

"Humans don't usually get up much before sunrise, so we'll have to wake them up." A mischievous smile spread across his face as he allowed himself to forget that he was trying to set a good example.

"Are you sure that's okay?" In her experience humans didn't like to be disturbed.

"Well, they probably won't like it, but it's a cat's right to stir things up a little."

Feli snapped, "I know that."

"Okay. What else do you know?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I suppose the most important thing you need to know when you're living with humans is that you can only push them so far. Another one is never to sleep inside any of their big machines, or you might get spin dried, or worse."

"What's spin dried?"

"You don't want to know. But it's okay to sleep on top of things like the television or piles of clothes that have just been washed."

"What about clothes that haven't been washed?"

"They're okay, but you never know where they've been and besides, the clean ones are always warm. The humans don't like it though, we leave fur on everything."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I don't know, but they don't like it. No reason not to do it once in a while though. We have to keep reminding them who's boss or they get a superiority complex."

"A superi – what?"

"Don't say what, say pardon."

Feli was beginning to get déjà vu. "Sorry. Pardon?"

"That's better. It means they think they're cleverer than we are. And when that happens, things can get ugly. It's best to keep them on their toes. Now, let's get them out of bed."

~

Macavity was woken by bright sunlight that streamed in through the kitchen windows. He yawned and stretched. Then, once he realised Plato wasn't there, the events of the previous night came flooding back to him.

After a moment's reflection he decided to get up and look around. Apart from the bed, food bowls and cat-flap he didn't know where anything else in the room was. Glancing around the kitchen all he could see were the legs of the table and chairs, the cupboard doors and the plastic gravel-tray from the room upstairs. He didn't care much for the tray so he walked over to one of the doors, hooked a paw through the handle and stepped backwards, pulling it open.

"I see you've found the cat-food cupboard," said the woman.

Macavity bolted for the cat-flap, banging his head hard against the unmoving plastic.

The woman rushed over and knelt down beside him. She stroked his thumping head and said, "You poor thing. I locked the flap last night, after Jonathan went out. It woke me up and I remembered I had to keep you in for another day. Are you all right?" She reached out to lift him up and, being half-dazed, Macavity let her.

She tickled him behind the ears. It brought back startling memories of the last time someone had touched him there. It was years ago, when he and Munkustrap were still with their mother. He caught himself before he started purring, then changed his mind and relaxed his throat. It was a little rusty after years of refusing to purr for anyone, but it did the trick and she smiled at him before carrying him over to the open cupboard. She asked, "Trying to tell me something, were you?" She kissed his forehead before putting him down and opening a tin of cat-food. To Macavity's disgust there was a picture of a silver tabby on the label, under the name "Whiskas". He wouldn't have bought it.

While Macavity had breakfast the woman made herself a cup of tea and some toast. She went out to the hall to bring in the paper and began reading.

The headline on the paper announced, Burglary in Cornwall Gardens' and the woman read the article out loud, as if she knew Macavity could understand what she was saying.

"Last night another burglary was committed by the mystery thief. Scotland Yard suspects Macavity, the infamous feline villain," she read aloud, then said, "So infamous I've never heard of him. Macavity. It sounds like a cross between Moriarty and Machiavelli."

"Well it wasn't me, I was here all night. You locked the cat-flap remember? And what's that you said? Machiavelli?" Macavity turned the name over in his mind. "I've never heard that one before. I'll have to look him up. You have got a set of encyclopædias, I take it?"

"a thin, scruffy, ginger cat with sunken eyes and a highly domed head," she read again. "You know, Ginger, this Macavity sounds a lot like you."

"Really?" If cats could roll their eyes, the ginger one would have done so.

She read on, "He is also known as the Hidden Paw and the Napoleon of Crime."

"You don't say?"

"I wonderNo, you couldn't be."

"Couldn't I?"

"A cat like that would never let himself be adopted."

"All right, no need to rub it in."

~

Later on the sun was shining down on the junkyard where several of the tribe slept. Plato and Victoria were curled up together in the shade of a pile of junk. As the sun moved across the sky it shone into their faces and forced them to turn away, but eventually they had to open their eyes. Victoria did so first. She yawned and stretched, then turned to her mate. Seeing him loath to move, she began licking his face.

"Good morning, Vicky," he said, then opened his eyes.

"Good morning, lazy bones."

He began to wash her face in response, then sat still while she returned the favour.

When she'd finished, he said, "How about some breakfast?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Victoria trotted out of the junkyard, with Plato hot on her heels, to the back of Russell Square and the infamous Russell Hotel. They knew there were numerous cafés and restaurants whose chefs were well-disposed towards hungry cats.

This morning Victoria chose an Italian-style café. She scratched on the door and meowed a hello. A young man in a white apron and tower-like hat appeared. He knelt down to stroke both her and Plato before disappearing back into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with some left-over meat and a saucer of milk.

The food went down a treat and so began another session of face and paw washing, not to mention the parts other species' tongues cannot reach.

When the cats were satisfied that their fur sparkled they set off down the road to a park where they knew dogs had to be kept on their leads, so they'd have some peace and quiet. They settled down beneath their favourite tree and Plato decided that this was as good a time as any to discuss his father. Victoria listened attentively, as she always did to another cat's problems.

"So what do you think?"

"I don't know yet. We'll need to talk to Old Deuteronomy about it. He'll know what to do."

Plato sighed. "I suppose so."

"You don't sound very sure. What's the matter?"

"What if he won't give him a chance? It'll all end up even worse than before."

"We don't know that. We'll just have to take the risk."

They heard a small sneeze and turned to see Jemima jogging towards them.

"Hi Victoria. Hi Plato."

"Hi Jemima."

"What are you two talking about?"

"My father."

Jemima's eyes widened.

"It's okay, Jemi, he hasn't done anything. He just needs some help."

"Macavity needs help?"

"Yes," said Plato, "he's lonely and he feels betrayed by the tribe."

"What did we do?"

"We kicked him out."

"But...didn't he do something bad first? Wasn't that why?"

"Well...yes," Plato admitted. "Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?" asked the kitten.

"He upset Demeter. She was frightened of him so they thought he was dangerous."

"But he is, isn't he?"

"A bit, I suppose, but not like everyone thinks he is. I know he's a criminal, but he doesn't hurt anyone on purpose, only in self defence. That's why I need your help. Both of you."

Victoria and Jemima exchanged glances, then turned back to face Plato and nodded in unison. Victoria said, "We'll help you any way we can. Now, are we going to talk to Old Deuteronomy?"

Plato hesitated as Victoria's eyes bore into him.

"Plato!"

"I suppose so."

"Good. Come on then." The white cat led the way through the streets back to the junkyard and beyond to the village where Old Deuteronomy lived. Victoria carried on walking until she reached the wall on which Old Deuteronomy lay, no doubt contemplating his ineffable third name. Or sunbathing.

Plato stopped, feeling his heart race with nerves. After all, what did a young cat like him know about leading a tribe?

"For Heaviside's sake, Plato," said Victoria when she realised he'd stopped, "come on." She and Jemima carried on walking towards Old Deuteronomy and Plato hurried to catch up with them.

The old cat looked down at them and smiled. Victoria gave Plato a nudge with her paw. He jumped up onto the wall, bowed his head to show respect and sat down facing his grandfather. Victoria followed suit, seating herself next to her mate.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" asked the old cat.

"We need to talk to you."

"Something is troubling you?"

"Yes, II don't know how to say it."

"Plato, you have nothing to fear. What's the matter?"

"It'sMy father."

~

Meanwhile, Munkustrap was in his element as he showed off his newly-found sister. He'd chosen a good time to leave for the Junkyard since by then all the resident cats had woken up and had breakfast, those who lived with humans had arrived, and they were all beginning to get bored.

The first group they came to consisted of George, Admetus and Victor, who were playing cards.

"Hi, Munkustrap," said George as the silver tabby approached with a strange kitten in tow.

"Feli, this is Admetus," Munkustrap patted the shoulder of the the grey and white teenager with grey patches over his eyes. "His brother, George," he went on, pointing to the lighter grey one with darker eye-patches. "And Victor," he finished, indicating the white and black one with a pale brown, stripy face. "And this is my sister, Feliciradeya," he told them.

"Your sister?" asked George.

"Yes. Grizabella was her mother. We met yesterday."

George nodded silent understanding as the other toms forgot their card game and looked the new kitten over.

"Felici- what?" asked Victor, screwing his face up as he tried to pronounce her name.

"Feli for short," said Munkustrap.

"Okay."

"Have any of you seen Alonzo?"

"No," said Admetus.

"All right, thanks anyway."

Victor re-shuffled the cards and Munkustrap said quietly to Feli, "Let's leave these guys alone and find some of the others, okay?"

"Okay."

~

Throughout the afternoon Feli met most of the other cats, including a gorgeous black and leopard-spotted Maine Coon whom she discovered was Munkustrap's brother, but not hers. It was going to take her a while to understand about all the different families in the tribe. Munkustrap started off by introducing her to the older cats, knowing that once she'd met the other kittens she would be dragged off by them to join in one of their crazy games. Once that happened he left her with them, under the watchful eyes of Jellylorum and Asparagus, and went to the vicarage with Bombalurina, since Alonzo was nowhere to be found.

"And then we woke up all the other cats too," Pouncival bragged, "You should have seen their faces!"

"Yeah," said Tumblebrutus, "but then we got busted."

"Huh?" said a confused Carbucketty, "when did that happen?"

"The other day," said Etcetera. "Oh, you weren't here."

"I wasn't either," said Bill Bailey. "Where were we, Carb?"

"The other day, let me think...wasn't that when we were spying on Sillabub?"

"You were spying on me?!" shouted Sillabub, who had only just come into view.

Bill Bailey glared at Carbucketty.

"Oops," said the younger kitten, ducking slaps from both Sillabub and Bill.

Feli watched and listened in amusement while sizing the others up. She thought that out of the queens Jemima seemed the most friendly and of the toms Carbucketty seemed the silliest, but probably the most fun. Pouncival was cuter, though.

~

Later that evening Plato finally returned home. The woman heard the gentle bang of the cat-flap and watched the kitchen door until the young cat strolled into the living room. Plato stopped by the side of the woman's chair, leapt up onto the arm and almost fell off it in shock. He dug his claws into the fabric to steady himself.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he demanded of Macavity who was curled up in the woman's lap, seemingly half-asleep.

"I live here, remember?"

"But"

"But what?" Macavity stretched out and allowed the woman to stroke his back.

Plato growled and jumped onto the settee, settling himself against the cushions and brooding over how he'd lost sole rights to the best seat in the house.

"What's the matter, Johnny?"

Plato didn't answer her question, but growled, "Stop calling me that. My name's Plato."

"If you want her to call you by your real name I can help you."

"How?"

"Just do what I tell you."

"Okay. What do I need to do?"

"First of all you've got to find the big book with the letter P' on."

Plato jumped off the settee and walked over to the bookshelf where the encyclopædias were. Standing on his hind legs he read the spines of the books.

"Which one is it?"

"It's in-between the ones with the letters that look like circles."

He waited while Plato found it.

"I've got it. Now what?"

"Tap the book with your paw, look her straight in the eyes and tell her you want her to open it." Plato did so, hoping she'd understand.

"You want to look at the book?" she asked, not sure what to make of this sudden thirst for knowledge. 

Macavity thought it was obvious what they wanted. He told Plato, "Tell her again, slowly this time."

Plato looked at the woman again and said, "Open the book."

Macavity jumped down off her lap and sniffed at an invisible spot on the carpet, apparently oblivious to what the others were doing. The woman walked over to Plato, took the book off the shelf and placed it on the coffee table, opening it at random. Macavity moved so that he was close enough to read the writing from where he sat. He turned to Plato and said, "Stand in front of her so you can reach the book."

Plato pushed himself in front of the woman and stood on his hind legs with his front paws resting on the table. "Now what?"

Macavity peered over and read the title of the first article, "Peanut. No, tell her to turn the page." Plato tapped the edge of the page with his paw, looked the woman in the eyes again and meowed. By some miracle, she did as he wished.

"Good," said Macavity, reading the new page, "but you're not there yet. Keep going."

Plato repeated his previous actions and she turned a few more pages.

"Plant," Macavity read, "Nearly there, just a few more."

The woman flicked through the next few pages.

"Stop!" Macavity had caught sight of the page he wanted and his loud meow, repeated by Plato, was noted as the woman stopped at that page.

"Now then, Plato, put your paw on the big word at the top of the page."

Plato did so, pointing to an article about his namesake.

"Now," said Macavity, "look in her eyes again and tell her that's your name."

Plato did as he was told.

"You're interested in philosophy, are you, Johnny?"

Plato growled, "That's not my name." He tapped his paw on the name at the top of the article and said, "That's my name. Plato."

"Oh." she said, beginning to realise what he meant. "You like the name, do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Hang on a moment, do you want me to call you that, instead of Jonathan?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. That's all right, I suppose. It's funny, but that name suits you better."

"Good Heaviside," said both cats in unison, walking away from the table. The woman put the book back on the shelf and sat down in the middle of the settee. The cats jumped up and sat down too, one on each side of her. As she stroked them, Plato asked,

"Don't you want her to call you by your real name?"

"No, I'll leave it as it is. Not that I couldn't do it. The police think I burgled a house so my name's in the paper, but it's better this way."

"It is? Why?"

"Because I don't want her going around telling her friends she's got a cat called Macavity. They might cotton on and then Heaviside knows what could happen. If they think I'm an ordinary cat who looks like Macavity and just happens to be intelligent, I'll be much safer. That's why I had you do all the pointing at the book."

"I didn't think of it like that."

"That's why I'm the criminal mastermind and you're an ordinary cat."

"Oh."

~

After dinner Plato entered into another bout of fur-cleaning, but Macavity wasn't as meticulous as Victoria so it didn't take him very long. Plato, having a lot of white fur, liked to keep as clean as possible, especially after the time the woman had dunked him in the bathroom sink because his paws were a bit on the grey side. Macavity didn't like the idea of a human-style wash and resolved to devote a little more time to his white patches. He didn't want to have to claw his way out of any water since this was one human he found he didn't want to hurt.

When Plato was satisfied that his own white bits shone he turned back to Macavity who, even after taking longer than usual to clean himself, had been waiting impatiently for his son to finish. Plato said, "We need to talk."

"That sounds ominous," said Macavity. "It didn't go too well, I take it?"

"It wasn't too bad. They didn't freak out or anything, but I don't know if you're going to like what I've got to say."

"I don't either. Who did you talk to and what did they say?"

"I spoke to Victoria first of all and then Jemima came along. They both listened to me. We went to see Old Deuteronomy and I told him everything, but he didn't say anything for ages. Then Munkustrap and Bombalurina showed up and they all talked about it for a while. In the end they said since you'd been banished because of how you behaved they'd let you come back if you proved you wouldn't hurt anyone. They need to know that they can trust y - What's wrong?"

Macavity was staring fixedly at the floor, gritting his teeth. He began to shake very slightly. He snapped his head up and glared at Plato.

"What's wrong?" He asked through his still-gritted teeth. "They're treating me like a kitten. That's what's wrong!"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Don't you understand?"

"I...no, I guess not."

"They're saying that as long as I behave myself and be good, then they'll forgive me and let me come back, as if it's all my fault and they've never done anything wrong! I can't believe it." He shook his head. "I should've known they'd be like this." He walked stiffly to the cat bed and lay down. He looked up at Plato and said, "They're so patronising. I hate them. I hate them _all_." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and covered them with his front paws, trying to block out the rest of the world. When he opened them again he looked at Plato and said, "Goodnight."

Plato didn't know what more he could do. He went back into the living room and jumped onto the woman's lap. They watched the television until she went to bed, taking him with her when she saw Macavity curled up tightly in the middle of the cat-bed.


	5. Alonzo...the House-Cat?

1. The Jacket 

Alonzo opened one eye and peered down the alley, trying to locate the source of the sound which had woken him up. It wasn't that side so he opened the other eye. Aha! It was a rat scrabbling in the rubbish for food and squeaking to itself at the same time. He got ready to pounce. 

Tasty, he thought, cleaning his whiskers and making sure there was no blood or rat-fur where it shouldn't be. 

When he'd finished his gaze fell upon the discarded human coat he'd slept on that night. It was more of a jacket than a coat really, beige in colour, soft and a bit fuzzy. 

"It'll make a good bed", he thought as he grabbed a corner of it in his mouth and pulled it away from the rubbish. He had to take care not to catch it on anything as he climbed over the back wall of the alley. He preferred the service-roads behind the shops and restaurants to the busy streets where sharp heels and heavy boots, not to mention cars, were the enemy of many a cat. He was glad the weather had been good so there was no mud to make his jacket dirty. 

He'd been walking for some minutes and had just turned the corner at the end of the service-road when he was jerked backwards. He turned slowly, immediately arching his back and fluffing out his fur as he saw what had stopped him. There was a foot on his jacket. A human foot by the look of it. Under normal circumstances he'd have run at the first sight of a human, but he had a jacket to protect. Still gripping it in his teeth he growled and looked up from the foot to a leg, then a chest and finally a face. Oddly enough, it was smiling.

"Get off," Alonzo said in a muffled meow. "I found it first. Get your own."

The man chuckled at the cat and crouched down. Alonzo dug his teeth further into his jacket and hissed as well as he could without dropping it. He was startled when the man's hand suddenly appeared in front of his nose, but it stayed still, so he relaxed a little. Slowly he leaned forward and sniffed at the hand. It didn't smell dangerous so he waited for the man to release his jacket. Instead he had to settle for being tickled behind the ear. It had been a long time since a human had done that and he allowed himself to purr quietly.He didn't notice the human reach an arm around him, but as the man stood up Alonzo screamed with the shock of being lifted five feet in the air.

He dropped his jacket. He struggled, but the man held him securely and stroked his head to calm him down. "So you're the stray that's been sniffing round my dustbins?"

Alonzo stopped struggling. "_Your _dustbins? What do you mean? Rubbish doesn't belong to anyone 'til it's taken _out_ of the 'bin. Everyone knows tha - Hey!"

The man had picked up Alonzo's jacket. "What do you want this old thing for?"

"A bed, it's comfortable."

"I can get you something better than this, puss." 

"Like what?"

"You see that restaurant over there?"

"Yeah, I'm taking Cassandra there on Friday."

"It's mine."

"Really? And I'm the magical Mister Mistoffelees."

"So if you like you can come home with me and have all the leftovers you like."

"Leftovers? Is that all I'm worth?" Alonzo cocked his head to one side, "Where's home?"

"Come on," said the man, carrying Alonzo over to another dustbin and leaving the jacket on top of it. "I live just around the corner."

"Hey! Give that back!"

"What?" asked the man, looking from the cat to the jacket and back to the cat again. "You really like this thing?"

"Yes." 

The man picked it up and examined it. "It's not too bad, just needs a wash. You can keep it."

"Who do you think you are? My mother?"

"How old are you anyway?" asked the man, amused at the sad look in the cat's eyes when he'd seen his jacket left behind.

"Two. What's that got to do with anything?" 

The man simply laughed again and made sure Alonzo was secure in his arms as they made their way home.

2. Home Sweet Home 

The man walked for about five minutes before turning into the driveway of a pretty, semi-detached house. Alonzo watched as he put a metal stick in a hole in the door, turned it and pushed the door open. After stamping his feet on the floor the man closed the door behind them. He crouched down to release the cat, but the floor-covering was unfamiliar to Alonzo so he dug his claws into the man's coat.

"What's the matter?"

"Um…nothing. I'm fine."

"All right. I'll keep a hold of you for now." 

Alonzo leant against the man's chest with relief.

A woman appeared in the doorway at the end of the room. "What are you doing with that cat, Mike?"

"I found him in the alleyway behind the restaurant. I've seen him around before and I'm sure he's a stray so I thought we could give him a home. What do you think?"

She came closer and tickled Alonzo under the chin, making him purr again. "I think he's gorgeous, but the poor thing's so skinny. I'll cut up some of that chicken for him."

Mike grinned. "I thought you'd like him, Sarah. Now, what shall we call him?"

Alonzo's ears pricked up at this. He didn't want a silly name like some of the other cats' humans had given them. Sarah came to the door of the kitchen with a saucer of diced chicken and beckoned Mike to bring Alonzo over. She put the saucer on the floor and Alonzo forgot his fear of the unknown carpet, or ceramic tiling in this case, and was only too happy to be let go. While the cat had his second breakfast Sarah ran up the stairs to look for something. Mike watched Alonzo as he made short work of the food and a minute later Sarah re-appeared holding a book.

"Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats." she announced. "There's a poem about The Naming of Cats, it's very important." She sat down and read the poem out loud. Mike sat opposite her and Alonzo occupied the floor in between. When Sarah read out his name he squeezed his eyes shut and mewed in delight. Mike gave him an odd look and when Sarah finished she asked, "What do you think?"

"He seemed to like it."

"Have you got any ideas for a name?"

"I dunno." He looked at the cat's face, "How about "Patch?"

"Patch?!" spat both woman and cat simultaneously, "That's a dog's name!"

"All right then, you think of something."

"He meowed when I said the name "Alonzo", but it says no two cats should have the same name, so we can't call him that."

"So much for trying to tell you what my real name is. I don't know why I bother."

Sarah examined Alonzo, taking in all of his markings. Her eyes fell on the small black patch on the side of his mouth. The white spots made it look like a… 

"Domino?"

"That's nice. What do you think, puss?"

Alonzo thought it over. Domino. It had a nice ring to it. "It'll do." 

"That's that then," said Mike, standing up. "We need to go shopping."

"We do?" asked Sarah and Alonzo.

"Yes, he'll be needing lots of stuff. Food for a start. And a bed, litter tray, one of those things to take him to the vet in."

"Yes, but we can't leave him here on his own."

"Hang on a sec'! Litter tray? Vet?" Alonzo had heard of those before and they weren't good. "And you're not even taking me with you? I knew this was too good to last." He lay down and rested his chin on his front paws while Mike and Sarah fussed around him.

"I'll go and see if Mrs. White'll come and look after him for a bit."

"Look after me?! I'm a cat. We're independent."

"Good idea, Mike, we don't want him getting lonely." Sarah knelt down beside him and said, "Okay, Domino? We're just going out for a bit. We'll be back soon. Mrs. White's got a couple of cats of her own, you'll like her." 

"She's got cats too? I might know them, what're their names?"

A few minutes later Mike returned with a grey-haired woman in her mid-sixties. Mike and Sarah left and Mrs. White turned the television on quietly.

"You know, Domino, I've got a couple of cats about your age."

"Sarah said you did. What're their names?"

"Tony and Cleo, I call them. Twins they are, always together. Very quiet, but cuddly. I doubt you'd get on though, cats never do. Even Tony and Cleo have their spats."

"Tony and Cleo. Twins, quiet, always together. They sound like Coricopat and Tantomile, can I meet them?"

Mrs. White ignored his question and took a small, purple box out of her handbag. She gave it a shake and soon Alonzo forgot all about the cats next door.

3. Strange New World 

"We're back!" Sarah's voice rang throughout the house, jerking Alonzo and Mrs. White awake. Mrs. White looked embarrassed at having been caught asleep, but Alonzo merely opened his eyes, glared at Sarah from his position in the older woman's lap, and went back to sleep.

"Oh. Sorry," said Sarah, wondering how the old woman had gained the cat's trust so quickly. Her question was answered when Mrs. White picked up the purple box and shook it near the floor. Alonzo jumped down and she was able to stand up and go home to "see to Tony and Cleo". Mike and Sarah put down the things they'd been carrying and Alonzo found himself surrounded on all sides by boxes and carrier-bags. For a moment he didn't know what to do, but then he remembered why he'd jumped onto the floor in the first place. He looked up to see Mike waving the box. He made a grab for it, but Mike only laughed when Alonzo missed and landed in a heap on top of one of the bags. 

"Well, are you going to shake it at me all day or are you going to give me some?"

"Mike, stop teasing him. Either give him something or put the box down."

"Yes, Mummy." He shook a few of the little treats from the box and held his hand out to Alonzo who wolfed them down and licked Mike's palm clean of any crumbs. "Stop it, that tickles."

"Come on, we've got lots to show him."

"Where do you want to start?"

"The food I suppose."

Mike picked Alonzo up and carried him into the kitchen while Sarah piled tins up in a cupboard above the sink. Mike pointed at them, "They're for you."

"All of them?!"

"Not all at once though, don't get any ideas."

"Oh." He took a good look at the tins and the location of the cupboard. "Hey, that cat looks like Munkustrap!"

"I read an article about this cat," said Sarah. "They said he did lots of poses so they could use a different picture for each type of food. His name's Sebastian."

"Sebastian," Alonzo repeated to himself. "Good name."

Mike put Alonzo on the floor and opened a sack that was twice the cat's size. Then Sarah put a plastic tray in a secluded corner near the door and Mike filled it with gravel from the sack. 

Alonzo watched in horror. "Don't tell me. You want me to use _that_ as a toilet?"

"There you go, Domino, your own facilities."

"You _are_ joking. I don't go inside. That what soil's for."

"We don't want you using the flowerbeds."

Alonzo stalked out of the kitchen with a flick of his tail. "Consider it my contribution to the gardening."

"Wait!" said Sarah. "You haven't seen the food bowls yet."

"Let me guess," Alonzo said as the humans followed him into the living room, "they're plastic and bowl-shaped? I can wait 'til lunchtime."

"There're only a few bits left," said Mike. He opened up one of the larger boxes and pulled out a cat-carrier made of heavy-duty plastic. He put it on the floor and Alonzo hissed at it, backing away slowly as if he thought any sudden movements on his part would attract its attention. He'd seen those things before. Every so often the people from the RSPCA came to the junkyard to round up the stray cats and he had often been taken to the pound, only being released when the owned cats launched a rescue mission. He had no desire to be near one.

Sarah crouched down and stroked Alonzo's back. "It's all right, Dom, it's only for when we go to the vet."

"Only? I'm not going anywhere in that!"

Mike put the carrier on top of a cupboard in the hallway and Alonzo resolved to keep an eye on it.

"What's next?" asked Mike.

"The scratching post," said Sarah.

"The what?" asked Alonzo.

"Oh yes," said Mike. He opened another box and pulled out a carpet-covered pole that was attached to a carpet-covered square. He looked around the room before putting it near the television. Then he turned to Alonzo and pointed a finger at him.

"If you want to sharpen your claws, use that. Don't touch the carpet or the furniture."

"Furniture?" Alonzo looked up at Mike. "You're losing me. First you want me to go to the toilet in a tray and now you want me to sharpen my claws on a pole that's covered with the same stuff as the floor, but you don't want me to touch the floor. Can't I just carry on using tree trunks?" He lay down and sighed, "This is all too weird."

"Perhaps we should move on," said Sarah.

"Right. Well, we got you some toys."

Alonzo raised an eyebrow. "Toys? Do I look like a kitten to you?" He stood up and stretched. "What kind of toys?"

"We've got a couple of foam balls, a plastic ball with a bell inside, and a catnip mouse."

"Balls…bells…catnip mouse, you say? I know I'm not meant to like these things, but let's have a look."

Mike threw the balls and mouse across the floor and Alonzo tried to catch them as they rolled past him. He picked up the mouse with his front paws and sniffed it. The catnip sent a bolt of electricity though him and he leapt up, twisted round in mid-air and, upon landing, shook his head a few times before trying to chase the mouse. That didn't work since it was still attached to his claws, but it gave Mike and Sarah a laugh. 

"Good thing we didn't get him the catnip-filled scratching post."

Alonzo stopped and shook his head, trying to focus and stop the room from spinning. Sarah tried to stop giggling. "At least he likes something. Shall we try the collar on now?"

"You mean while he's mellow enough to let us put it on him?" Mike reached down and dislodged the mouse from Alonzo's paw, then lifted the cat into his arms.

"We've got something else to show you, Dom."

"Uh-huh." Alonzo shook his head again. "What is it?"

"A collar!" Sarah pulled a black velvet strip out of a bag and held it out for Alonzo to sniff. "It's elasticated so if you get it caught on something you can get it off."

"Good idea."

"And it's got a tag with your name on the front and our name, address and phone number on the back, in case you get lost."

"Like I could reach a phone even if I did get lost? At least it'll keep the people from the pound off my back."

Sarah fastened the collar around the cat's neck and he shook himself to settle it. 

"Only one thing left now, Dom. I think you'll like this," said Mike, opening up another box and pulling out a mass of material. He carried it into the kitchen and put it in front of the radiator next to the doorway. Alonzo followed him and began investigating while Mike went back into the living room for the jacket Alonzo had slept on the night before. Alonzo wasn't impressed by the sterile, synthetic smell of what he supposed was meant to be a bed of some kind. It was a strange shape too; round with a sunk bit in the middle.

"It's a doughnut." said Sarah. "A cat-doughnut. It's very soft."

"When we've washed your jacket it can go in there as a lining. What do you think?"

"I think I prefer my jacket unwashed."

Alonzo made his way back into the living room, picked his mouse up in his mouth and peered inside the box the cat-doughnut had come from. He dropped the mouse inside, hopped in and lay down.

Mike and Sarah stared down into the box at the cat who lay in a squashed ball, clutching his toy mouse to his chest. Alonzo gave the humans a look of condescension, covered his eyes with his free paw and went to sleep.

Mike was the first to find his voice, "If we made him sleep in that we'd be done for cruelty."

"I suppose we'd better clear up the rest of the boxes, then."

~

The next morning Alonzo woke up much earlier than the humans seemed used to, judging by the words they threw at him when he asked for breakfast. In addition to that they gave him two pawfuls of butter and an audience as he licked it off. Mike then cut a hole in the back door and put a plastic thing called a "cat-flap" in it. Once he'd finished he gave the cat a lecture about coming home each day so as not to worry people and finally Alonzo was allowed to go out.

He went straight to the junkyard. It was still too early for there to be many cats around, but he knew at least his mother would be there; there was always so much for a Lilliecat to be doing. As soon as Alonzo reached the 'yard he ran over to the oven and yelled for her to come out. 

"What is it, dear?"

"Can't you tell?"

"Tell what?"

Alonzo lifted his head higher.

"Oh! You've got a collar. Found yourself some humans? What are they like?"

"They're all right. They're friendly and they gave me loads of stuff, but they're a bit weird."

"How so?"

Alonzo leaned close to the older cat and whispered, "They want me to go to the toilet in a tray and sleep in a doughnut."

"Yes, humans are like that, but don't worry. Remember, you don't have to do any of that if you don't want to. That's why God gave them gardens and beds big enough for a cat or two."

"That's what I thought."

"So, where do they live?"

"Near the road with the restaurants on. He owns one."

"Who does?"

"Mike."

"Who?"

"One of my humans."

"Oh, I see! That's nice."

"Yes," he said, thinking, Why can't she be more enthusiastic?

Soon the other cats began to arrive and Jellylorum was needed to watch over the kittens.

"Well, dear, I'd better get on now. Why don't you go and find your friends?"

"Okay," he said as she went about her business.

Alonzo walked around the junkyard to see what was going on and found things to be much the same as usual. He told the other cats about his new family, but so many of them had their own human families that it wasn't newsworthy. They just smiled and continued with what they were doing. The only other cat who paid him any attention was Munkustrap, who ran up to him and yelled, "So, you decided to show your face at last! Where have you been? Are you wearing a collar?"

"Yes, I am. I was at home with my family yesterday."

"Family?"

"Yes, my human family. I got adopted yesterday before I could come to the junkyard and they only let me out this morning. That's why I'm wearing a collar."

"Oh," said Munkustrap, "sorry. Humans can be annoying like that. Come on, we've got things to do."

~

By sunset Alonzo's boredom was mind-numbing and he was glad he could make his excuses and leave. As he made his way home his mind was full of thoughts about the last two days. It had all happened so quickly. Until the day before yesterday he'd have had to stand guard all evening and then go in search of an empty alleyway if he wanted peace and quiet. When he reached the house he stopped and sat on the pavement for a moment, just looking at it. _His_ house. He walked around the back to the cat-flap and stepped into the kitchen.

"There you are, dear!" 

He looked up and saw Jellylorum winding her way through the legs of humans and the kitchen table to reach him.

"Come and have something to eat, there's plenty."

"What? What's going on?"

Before Jellylorum got a chance to explain Sarah appeared and lifted Alonzo up. "Hi, Dom, glad you could make it. There are lots of people here to see you. Some of your friends too."

"There are? Why?" 

"Because they want their friends to meet you," Jellylorum answered from the floor.

"Why?"

"Because they want to show you off."

"But…why?!"

"You and your questions! How am I to know why? You said it yourself, dear, humans are weird."

And so he was carried all over the living room and introduced to Sarah and Mikes' parents, friends, neighbours and the staff of Mike's restaurant. He was eventually returned to the floor where he tried to find Jellylorum.

"She went back to the kitchen."

Alonzo whirled round. "Cori?!"

"Yes, why so surprised?"

"I…I don't know."

"Relax," said Tantomile as she appeared beside her twin and put down the pair of sardines she'd been carrying. "They're having a party in your honour, the least you could do is enjoy yourself. Sardine? Sorry, Cori, you'll have to get your own." 

"Thanks," said Alonzo. He and Tantomile ate the fish while Coricopat went to the kitchen in search of more food. He came back a few minutes later accompanied by Jellylorum, Munkustrap and Cassandra, who'd just arrived. The toms were carrying a piece of kitchen-roll between them and on it were perched six chicken-filled vol-au-vents.

"Are you enjoying yourself yet?" asked Coricopat.

"Yes," Alonzo said defensively. "What are you lot doing here anyway?"

"We live next door," said Tantomile, "our human's here somewhere".

"I was right, then, you're Tony and Cleo."

"The very same," said Coricopat.

"Except we don't get milk baths."

"And Tantomile gave us the address so we came to see how you were getting on," said Munkustrap.

"Thanks," Alonzo said again, relaxing at last as he realised that his friends did care.

Then it hit him, there was no need to have been surprised by the party. Being a stray for so long he'd forgotten that humans had once worshipped cats. There was no reason why that practice should've stopped. It was simply the "evidences of respect" that Old Deuteronomy so often told them about. Mike and Sarah were doing quite well so far.

With his tail held high he left the other cats and made his way to the kitchen for another vol-au-vent.


End file.
